


Westallen Drabbles

by enefasparable



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Barry Allen & Iris West, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnancy, Public Blow Jobs, Shameless Smut, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr drabbles, tornado twins - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9638771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enefasparable/pseuds/enefasparable
Summary: A series of drabbles based on Tumblr prompts I wrote a while ago; note: NSFW pieces will be noted at the chapter's beginning. (Continually updating, so chapters will be added beyond what's listed here.)Chapter 1: "Iris is kidnapped, and Barry is going out of his mind with anger and worry until he finally finds her (injured but other than that, fine). Pleeeeeeease?"Chapter 2: "Westallen smut- Iris going down on Barry at his job"Chapter 3: "Westallen fluff + meeting the twins for the first time ❤ thank you!"Chapter 4: "Westallen Prompt humor A rival of Iris' gets a photo of her kissing Barry (while in his Flash suit). Now everyone thinks Iris is cheating on Barry with the Flash. I'd love to read everyone's reactions to that happening especially those who don't know Barry is the Flash."Chapter 5: "Westallen prompt: westallen + dodgy motel room door, thanks"Chapter 6: "Anyone gonna write the future fic where iris marries eddie and they move out of central city and then x number of years later she meets barry again?"





	1. "Iris is kidnapped, and Barry is going out of his mind with anger and worry until he finally finds her (injured but other than that, fine). Pleeeeeeease?"

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to compile some of my Tumblr drabbles here for easier archiving purposes; as always, kudos and comments (whether critical or happy) are SO appreciated. **This chapter is smut-free.** Enjoy!

If you asked Barry Allen what his most treasured memory with his now-girlfriend was, he’d probably tell you that it was a tie between the time he got her a replica of her mother’s wedding band for Christmas and the first night that they made love in their shared apartment.

The feel of warm skin against his fingers when he slipped the necklace around her; the pressure of her mouth against his as she straddled him. Both moments had been seared into his mind, a cacophony of feelings that stretched between them like rivers with a too-fast current.

That was why he shook now, with numbness and nausea coalescing inside him.

“Barry …”

The sound of his name, falling shakily from Cisco’s lips, washed over him.

“We’ll find her.”

Barry turned from them both then, clasping the small, metallic object between his shaking fists. The chain etched itself into his palms, the ring dangled and shook just beyond his grip. A splotch of maroon, bright against the gold, was smudged into the ring’s surface –

_Iris’_ ring. Iris’ … blood?

“Barry … talk to us.”

Caitlin’s feather-light touch brushed against him.

He … he couldn’t _feel_ anything. Why couldn’t he feel anything?

“We can start combing through databases right now.” Caitlin became all business, burying concern underneath sharp insistence. “And we should analyze that blood, or at least check the necklace for fingerprints.” She didn’t want to upset him further by chiding him for touching it, in the first place.

Cisco was beside her then, ardent. “Yeah. And remember, we put that tracker under her car a couple of months ago. We can trace that! I mean,” he chuckled nervously, not quite convinced by his own words. “Whatever moron took her _clearly_ doesn’t know how prepared we – ”

The air around him crackled, punctuated by jagged streaks of red and orange; Barry blurred by them in a blaze of crimson and fury that coated the air in thick, hot strokes.

* * *

_Hi! You’ve reached Iris West, ace reporter –_  
and all around cutie –  
Oh my God, Bar. Stop!

The giggle that punctuated her voicemail, mingled with his own gentle laugh, sounded loudly through his suit’s earphone for the 7th time. It blotted out all sound: Central City’s traffic, the whir of construction nearby, the din of crowds sauntering through the downtown promenade. He lost himself in a desperate hope that clawed at him.

“Barry – ”

Caitlin’s voice cut through the message, all worry and taut strings.

“You _can’t_ run mad. And you can’t go searching for her when we don’t even know where to _look!_ ”

Barry overrode the suit’s internal communication system with a swipe of a finger; the communication circuit near his ear went dead.

Then he called her again, because she _had_ to pick up, eventually.

Or whoever had her would, he reminded himself.

Whoever’d _touched_ her.

Whoever –

“Agh!”

Distracted by his thoughts, Barry careened wildly to avoid a truck that was now headed for him, and crashed into patio dining tables scattered across the sidewalk. He tumbled amid shrieks from confused dinner-goers and shattering glassware. As he rolled to a halt, heaving and shaking with exertion, his phone buzzed with a text.

_Are you OKAY?! Your vitals are all over the charts! Please pick up!_

But he couldn’t. Not until he found her.

* * *

Night was busy unfurling itself across Central City when Barry kicked down the door to a well-known metahuman hideout. Rank smells assaulted him as he stepped over rats scurrying in the darkness and trash heaped into misshapen piles against the dirty wood. None of it phased him.

He’d already begun to put together pieces while he ran – mental recollections of all the stories she’d been working on. All of the metahumans who might’ve known her identity, all the people who’d read her blog and knew who she might be.

And that’d led him to Central City’s underbelly, ruled by a ring of infamous metahumans that never failed to cause trouble. Each stop was a dead end, a tease – empty, echoing chambers devoid of life. Barren of _her_.

This was the last stop.

“Iris!”

Barry foolishly called for her, knowing that he was exposing his location. But he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to hear her call back.

“ _Iris_!”

This time it was a halfway cry, tinged with fear that’d been scrabbling for purchase at his throat all day. He stilled himself, swallowed a shaky breath, and plunged deeper into the seemingly abandoned apartment.

“You want me? Well you GOT me! The Flash, in the flesh!” He taunted her would-be captors. “Come out and face me!”

But every room was a dark slab of nothingness, a blank canvas for the stars and moon outside to paint.

And he was a broken thing, amid the wasteland of his turmoil, lost to the world.

_zzz. zzz._

For the millionth time, his phone buzzed. With what, he assumed, was more concerned calls from Caitlin and Cisco.

And because he was afraid of being lost forever, because the only person capable of pulling him back from the brink was gone, he picked up.

“FINALLY.” Cisco couldn’t be more upset. “WERE YOU JUST PLANNING ON DISAPPEARING FOREVER?”

Barry huffed, the fight gone from him.

“I can’t find her.”

The depth of his hurt reached them through wires and connections and a distance that seemed small in comparison to his missing soulmate. Cisco and Caitlin took a breath to speak, but he beat them to the punch –

“I’m an idiot. I wasted all this time running into dead ends when I should’ve stayed. Worked with you guys. And _god_ , I don’t even know what’s _happening_ to her right now. I can’t think, feel like I can’t – ”

“But we got something while you were out! About 30 minutes ago.”

His heart hammered loudly.

“What?”

“A letter,” Caitlin chimed. “Well, more like a note. Scrabby handwriting, ridiculous, taunting message.”

“Did you see who left it?”

“Uh … we were kind of busy trying to find a certain missing speedster,” she chastised him. “But the note says ‘I have your girlfriend. Little broken, but still alive. You want her to stay that way, come to the Waterfront in South Side’.”

And then it hit him.

_The Waterfront_. Only one other person had taken someone there in a ridiculous plot to break them.

_Mardon_.

The man who created a tsunami to destroy everything that Joe West ever loved. The man who, in _this_ timeline, never did those things, and who still had every reason to go after the West family.

“It’s Mark Mardon.”

“Wait, the Weather Wizard?” Cisco and Caitlin asked in unison. “Why would he – ”

Barry didn’t have time to answer them. He raced against time, against everything to save her. The city whipped past him in a blur, arcing into yellow hues made of lamplight that matched his own dazzling streaks. He ran as though time itself were made to bend and ripple around his surging form, pushing and twisting and churning him closer toward her.

Toward _her_.

* * *

When he skidded to a stop, the sea lining the Waterfront licked the boots of his suit, swaying and undulating with the incoming tide. He gazed toward the horizon, but it was only a quiet canvas that reflected cloudy skies and a sliver of moon glinting across the horizon.

No tsunami. No storm. Just calm waves, swelling lightly against the pebbled shore.

“Cisco, Caitlin: I need you to monitor the weather for any anomalies. Hack satellites, let me know the minute you see anything forming.”

He clipped communication before they could answer, and raced across the beach toward the docks. The water lapped at it’s legs, and he sped across the length of its surface in an effort to find her.

“Mardon, it’s _over_. You’ve lost!”

But it wasn’t Mardon’s haughty voice that greeted him – it was Iris’.

Iris, bound with rope and black duct tape that covered her mouth. Iris, curled into a ball against the wet wood, cheeks stained with tears and specks of blood – a larger splotch traced her temple and caused hair to stick oddly to the skin there.

_Barry._

She called for him, muffled, struggling against her restraints. And his heart dropped into his stomach; feeling fled from his fingers. He watched her, frozen for a minute, dread pooling within him. _This is your fault_. The thought ate at him.

_Barry_!

The word was muffled by tape, but he still heard her. Felt her.

And he was at her side in an instant, ripping away rope and gently peeling back the tape from her lips. Then cradling her to him, his gloved hands gripping against her soaked clothing and whispering into her hair.

_Iris._

Because it was the only word he could mutter through the jagged onslaught of his feelings. It was the only thing he could cling to. The only thing capable of bringing him back from the brink, every time.

“You found me,” she whispered. “You found me, Bar.”

He nodded vigorously into her neck, his own tears hot against her neck. Then his lips were against hers – pressing and wanting and needing, and oh god, full of _everything_ that’d ever passed between them. Full of every unnamed emotion they kept from one another, stained in the love that nourished them. Full of pain and hurt and hope, like a compress against an open wound – like air finding the innards of lungs on the verge of collapse. Like a thing full to bursting.

“I’m always going to find you, Iris.”

The sound of her tired laugh lit him from the inside out.

“He’s not here anymore. The guy that took me.”

Barry inspected her closely. “What’d he do to you?”

“Bump to the head to get me unconscious and some _serious_ rope burn, but nothing R&R can’t cure.” She was trying to be strong, to summon mirth in all the darkness.

Barry nodded, but noticed a small sliver of paper folded into her hands. “What’s this?”

“Oh? I, I don’t know…” Iris eyed her hands quizzically. “I don’t … I don’t remember this.”

Barry steadied her with one arm and unfolded the crumpled paper with the other.

_So_ she’s _your weakness. Good to know._

Mardon’s last message, a parting gift. A reminder. An attempt to intimidate. 

“What’s it say?” Iris asked, but she was fading fast. “Is it a threat?”

Barry swallowed, and gritted his teeth against the warm summer breeze.

“No.”

Because she was his strength. His _reason_.

And Mardon would learn that, soon.


	2. "Westallen smut- Iris going down on Barry at his job"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to compile some of my Tumblr drabbles here for easier archiving purposes; as always, kudos and comments (whether critical or happy) are SO appreciated. **This chapter is pure smut/PWP.** Enjoy!

The best thing about saving lives while traversing a city is that the _entire space_ becomes your workplace. Subway mazes stretch on underneath mounds of concrete, trains barrell toward distant neighborhoods. Quiet parks spring from metal and glass landscapes. Little alleys and private passageways emerge, where one steals warm kisses or blends heady moans with the city’s din.

All of Central City was Barry’s workplace, and no matter how many metahumans or criminals sought to tear it down, he loved fighting for it.

But that was only half of his identity. Today he was just Barry Allen, forensic scientist for the CCPD, hard at work in his crime lab. And he was so deeply consumed that he almost didn’t hear the new Officer, some kid fresh out of the Academy, call his name.

“Excuse me, Mr. Allen? There’s someone here for you.”

Silence. Barry stared deeply into some chemical concoction that might give him a clue into what caused a recent explosion downtown.

The kid cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Mr … Allen? MR. ALLEN!”

Barry almost jumped out of his skin, senses on high alert. But the rookie, Officer Williams, looked more afraid than he did.

“Sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to yell. I just – ”

“It’s okay. I get distracted pretty easily.” Barry said. “What’s up ?”

“There’s someone here to see you.”

Barry put down the container he’d been examining. “Who?”

“A witness. Or something. Maybe? Crap, I uh –” He shuffled awkwardly. “A woman. I’m sorry, I, uh, I forget her name.”

Barry rubbed the back of his neck. “If it’s a witness, then you should send them to Joe.”

“It’s not!”

_O…kay_. Barry sighed, flabbergasted. “I guess I’ll just meet them downstairs then.”

“Oh, no need! She came up with me.”

A woman rounded the corner, but he heard the clack of her boots before he ever laid eyes on her. Brown skin and a dazzling smile, marked by almond eyes and lips that tasted of everything he ever loved.

Iris West.

“Ir–”

“Mr. Allen. Hi.” She crossed the space quickly to shake his hand. “I’m Irina. Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”

Barry furrowed his brow, wondering why his girlfriend was choosing _now_ of all times to roleplay.

“–Hi … Irina. What … can I do for you?”

She took the chair behind his desk confidently, then shot the green Officer a look. “Thanks. We’re good from here.”

He smiled confidently, proud of himself despite having _no idea_ just how clueless he was. “No problem, ma’am.”

Barry waited until Officer Williams was out of earshot before laughing boisterously. “You know he’s gonna figure out who you are sooner rather than later, right?”

“Yeah,” she conceded, rising. “But not before my Dad gets back from lunch.”

She pressed herself into the distance separating them and the air became tinged with her scent. Vanilla mingled with lavender – a remnant of her body wash. The thrum of her heartbeat. The warmth that radiated between them, molten like love splayed beneath an infinite sun.

“Oh, _I see_ ,” Barry whispered, skimming the fabric of her dress lightly. “You’re avoiding Joe, then?”

“Yeah.” She leaned into his touch. “Because _every time_ I come here now, he wants to take us both to lunch. And brag about how he _knew_ this was gonna happen. How _we_ were gonna happen. And honestly, I don’t know if I can take another day of having every single free second we have sapped by work and lunch commitments.” Her mouth was inches from his, lips hovering delicately in front of his mouth, parted, hungry, full of a need that Barry could taste. “We have about thirty minutes before he gets back.”

“Uh huh.” Barry nipped at her bottom one, then sucked gently. “And twenty before Captain Singh needs me for a meeting.”

Iris smiled. “Then lets not waste any precious ti–”

Her words were cut off by his conquest: lips captured by his, tongue coaxing gently, pulling harsh breaths and heady moans from her. Then the rough grip of him against her backside, causing her to stumble needily onto his frame. The hardness between his legs greeted her, a welcome reminder that _every_ precious second of this twenty minutes needed to count.

When they’d sapped as much love from one another as they could manage through kisses, they surfaced for air.

“Iris, anyone could walk in at _any_ time. The new guy might not know you, but someone else – ”

“I don’t care.”

Her lips came upon his neck, sucking and nipping and driving him to the edge, and oh _god_. What was he saying?

“Iris, fuck – _anyone_ could walk in.”

“Let them.”

_Jesus_.

Barry drank from her mouth with fervor, her hands already inching past his un-knotted belt, breathy moans coalescing with the cadence of his soft whimpers. The V-neck of her dress beckoned him further, forcing him to withdraw a taut nipple, soon wet with the maddening pace of his tongue against it. He drew tight circles around it that buckled her knees, then took the pert mound of flesh between his teeth.

Iris practically screamed, which he swallowed with his mouth again to muffle the sound. And his hands weren’t so cautious anymore – firm grips against her thighs, against her ass, in an effort to ease the throbbing between both of their legs. And the way she hitched her leg around his own, the way she keened against his lips when he met her wetness with two fingers, left them both panting and calling names into the other’s mouth.

The way she melded herself against him, how she clutched and scraped at his shirt, left them breathless. His buttons came undone, making the warmth of his chest a languid landscape for her mouth to devour. He marooned them against his desk with warm embrace.

“Sit down,” Iris commanded.

Barry was putty in her slender fingers; he obeyed. Iris dipped tantalizingly to her knees, a mischievous smile playing at the edge of her lips, and eyed his bulging length that was now at eye-level.

Barry caught her meaning.

“ _Iris_. We can’t.” He stole a glance at the wide open doorway, lust draining from him. “Let me close up the lab first.”

Manicured nails trailed up his thighs, eliciting the neediest groan from his throat.

“No,” she whispered delicately. “Leave them open.”

He swallowed thickly. “Oh my … god. Okay, oh god. Babe, it’s not like this isn’t one of my fantasies or anything –”

Iris smiled. “I know.”

“But we should _really_ –”

“Come. Together. That’s what you were going to say, right Bear?”

Her voice was a rasp, lips tracing his cock through the fabric of his jeans. And he was a taut string, stretched to the point of breaking from her gentle ministrations, and thus could only thread his fingers through her hair in response.

When she freed him from his boxers, precum dotted the length of his cock. She tasted it gently, her tongue but a gentle _tap_ against the head, causing his hips to buck uncontrollably.

“Watch the door, okay?”

He flashed her a ridiculous look, half comprised of a heavy longing, and nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

Barry trained his eyes on the empty entryway, only lightly tinted with the sounds of goings-on downstairs. But he lost all thought, all reason, when she took him into her mouth. Wet, soft, warm confines rubbed against flesh and sendt pleasure to every pore dotting him. Soft, sucking sounds made him harder, as did the vision of her head bobbing slowly in time with his thighs that rose ever so slightly to meet her descending mouth. The soft thrum of her moans vibrated against him, the warm mewls she sucked from him, the feel of her hair between his fingers as he tugged gently, loving and hoping and imagining a future where this was all they were: the taste of a need gone unfulfilled for years while they danced around their relationship.

“Barry – ”

His name was a rough punctuation to that mounting pleasure, heightening it, making him speed his movements as he spied her hand dipping gently between brown thighs. When he realized she was pleasuring herself to his sounds, to his movements, he lost control –

Day wrung itself out. Water ran thick like blood. The universe spun around them, gravity pushing everything down, _down_ to lips and teeth and tongue and atoms ripe with a feeling that no one had crafted a word for yet. With delicious sensation that wrapped itself around them and mirrored landscapes wet with paint, with everything that pulsed and ebbed and throbbed and _made_ the world what it was.

His orgasm rolled through him in rough waves, shaking first from his core and then flinging out through his belly and lower abdomen to almost-numb fingertips. And then her mouth hot against his length and heavy with the calamity of her own release as she rocked against her fingers underneath him. And the sound of everything that ever was, ever _would_ be between them, open and fresh and _raw_ because that’s what pleasure _is_. A thing to be felt. To be experienced. Not written, and –

And someone was coming.

“Fuck.” Barry felt the last waves of pleasure pulse through him. “Hold on.”

Iris got his meaning quickly enough and withdrew, still shaking under his desk and struggling to stifle her moans. And in perfectly interrupting fashion, Captain Singh rounded the corner.

“Allen, you ready for the presentation? Five minutes until the staff meeting.”

Barry stared at him, wide-eyed, frozen in his chair. “Yeah – yep, yes, definitely. Sorry! Just give me a second.”

Singh eyed him strangely. “Why are you … sweaty?”

Barry clenched his jaw. “I, uh – it’s _hot_ in here. The AC’s … broken, remember?” He chuckled nervously. “You should seriously get someone up here – to fix it, because uh … it’s just really … _ridiculously_ hot, and … !”

He laughed too loudly, and had his wide-eyed look made Singh want to question him further.

“Uh … okay. Sure. I’ll get someone up here. Now can you get your ass downstairs already?”

“Yep, just give me a minute!”

Singh nodded, then turned to leave. And then, stopped abruptly. “Have you seen Iris?”

He felt the girl hiding between his legs shake with silent laughter and cursed her adorable habit of being _adorable_ at the worst moments.

“Nope! Why would I? She’s not here. At all. Have you asked Joe? Maybe you should ask Joe!”

“Calm down, Allen. I’m asking _for_ Joe. He wanted to take you guys to lunch. Apparently tried calling her a bunch of times. You know how worried he gets.” Singh shrugged. “Just tell her to call him so that he doesn’t dispatch an entire force to look for her, okay?”

Barry chuckled uneasily. “Yep. Willlll do.”

Singh threw him one last skeptical glance, and then left. It was good he was such a fast walker because Iris and Barry were already curled onto the floor, crying tears of laughter and oh-shit-that-was-close tension that ensconced whatever love they could steal away within the last minutes they had together.


	3. "Westallen fluff + meeting the twins for the first time ❤ thank you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to compile some of my Tumblr drabbles here for easier archiving purposes; as always, kudos and comments (whether critical or happy) are SO appreciated. **This chapter is smut-free.** Enjoy!

“They’re so _tiny_.”

Barry whispered this while cradling Dawn to his chest, eyes trained on the gurgling lifeform that clung to him. She stretched herself out with a lazy yawn, fingers scrabbling softly at her Dad’s warm arms; Barry let out a shaky, tear-laden sigh. He’d traveled through time, bent the very molecules that made up the world _around_ him, seen futures and pasts that defined entire worlds – but none of that prepared him for what it’d feel like to see his daughter’s sleepy face buried into him, burrowed like she’d always belonged there. Like existing in any other place that wasn’t his arms was unnatural, unwelcome.

This tiny human was _him_. Part him, anyway. And she needed him.

And now, he would bend time and space to protect them both.

“I know, right?” Iris said, her fingers skimming Don’s sleeping form. “Perfect, little versions of us.”

Iris West and Barry Allen were crammed onto a too-small hospital bed, their legs tangled, their arms full of two sleeping bundles that were warm with the kind of new life that births entire universes. And delivery stresses had given way to post-delivery wonder, marked by soft things that went from being flutters in her belly to beings with noses and lips and eyes and hands that were more than they ever could’ve conjured in their dreams. Little, delicate things that cooed and stunk out tiny pink tongues, protesting sleep when there was so much of the world to discover.

Barry leaned his head against Iris’ shoulder.

“She has your eyes.”

“Don has your ears.”

Barry scrunched up his nose, forcing a giggle from Iris.

“My ears? What?”

“Yes, your ears! Come on, it’s clear my genes won out here. Look at those perfect noses, those tiny little fingers, those lips – that’s _all me_ , baby.” She teased.

Barry smiled, then risked a quick press of his lips against hers.

“I won’t argue, because I mean … just _look_ at you.”

Iris bit her lip and rolled her eyes. “I know, I’m rockin’ this hospital mumu right?”

“Actually, yeah.” He kissed the giggle from her lips. “BUT, they probably got my speed.”

Iris was only halfway listening, too busy languidly kissing and probing Barry’s mouth between words, but she stilled when recognition hit her.

“Oh my god, Bear – what if? Do you think your speed is genetic?”

Barry stopped tracing her neck with his lips, stunned at the thought. He’d just been talking, really. Not thinking seriously about what he was saying. But –

“Well…I guess it’s possible,” he considered. “I mean, my genetic structure was completely altered when I got struck by lightning. So, I mean – _wow_. Maybe …”

He rose from the hospital bed, pacing with Dawn, stealing glances at her, wondering, _dreaming_ –

“You want to run with them,” Iris whispered, smiling. She looked down at Don and saw so much of Barry in him. Imagining the races the two would get into. The matching sets of lightning that would rise and flare in the backyard. The shouts of abandon that would follow their antics, and the … well, the danger.

Her heart raced.

“Barry, if they’re like you … then there’ll be three times the danger. And I’ll have to worry about rogue metahumans going after my husband _and_ children.”

Iris’ eyes were wet, full of post-delivery fatigue. But Barry felt the weight of her words and realized that they matched his own. Running with them might also mean running _from_ things. Bad, horrifying things capable of …

He didn’t allow himself to think further. Because the woman in front of him had brought him back from the brink time and time again, had been the lightning rod that kept him from being lost to time.

“Iris.”

Barry eased Dawn into the hospital bassinet, then took Don from her and did the same with him.   
When he eased onto the hospital bed again, he cupped her warm cheeks between his, pressed their foreheads together, and traced the tip of his nose against the top of hers.

“Whatever happens, we’re going to go through it _together_. Always. Okay?”

A tear wet his hand. They weren’t sure whose it was, but Iris smiled in spite of it.

“Always.”


	4. "A rival of Iris' gets a photo of her kissing Barry (while in his Flash suit). Now everyone thinks Iris is cheating on Barry with the Flash. I'd love to read everyone's reactions to that happening especially those who don't know Barry is the Flash."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to compile some of my Tumblr drabbles here for easier archiving purposes; as always, kudos and comments (whether critical or happy) are SO appreciated. **This chapter is smut-free.** Enjoy!

It was just _one_ kiss. Stolen atop Jitters’ rooftop after dark, with the lights of Central City painting warm tones on two bodies that were pressed against one another. Barry’s hand traced the soft curve of her jaw; Iris’ teeth scraped his bottom lip with a wanting hunger, a _need_. Soft whispers of _I missed you_ permeated the air.

This moment was for them, meant to be tucked away from the rest of the world.

But Leo Jackson, beat reporter for CCPN’s Entertainment section, was determined to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Leo, what the _hell_ is this?” Iris West approached the squat reporter while grabbing coffee at her office’s espresso cart; her other hand held a slim tablet showing CCPN’s Entertainment News section. “ _The Flash: Speeding His Way Into Iris West’s Pants_?!”

Leo poured cream into his latte. “Morning, Iris. Like the piece?”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. I’ve seen you stoop to some pretty pathetic lows, but this? This, Leo?”

He shrugged, feigning indifference. “Iris, I cover entertainment for God’s sake. But I’ll admit – when I went in search of juicy gossip on Central City’s masked champion, I was surprised to find what I did.”

The headline was accompanied by a crisp close-up of Iris and The Flash, Barry’s arms draped about her waist, her hand plastered to his masked cheek. Though only her profile was visible, it was a pretty damning photo.

“Leo, you need to retract this story. _Now_.”

“Actually, I don’t. And believe me, catching you in the act wasn’t as easy as it looked. You know how long I was camped out in the abandoned building across the way, using that stupid telephoto lens to get this shot? Too long! Long enough to miss Real Housewives of West Keystone, anyway … ”

Iris slammed her coffee down onto the espresso cart, it’s brown liquid sloshing out and staining the sides. “Leo, you either retract this story or say it wasn’t me. Whatever you do, you _fix it_. And if you don’t, I’m taking legal action.”

His smirk grew in size. “You know, when a junior reporter with less clout than a wet paper bag walked into the office last year, I thought: there’s _no way_ she’ll last. I took wagers. You know Harry from accounting? And Debrah from Tech? We all bet you’d fall flat on your ass before the digital ink cooled. And there was no chance in _hell_ that Mason Bridge would take you seriously.” His voice wavered, cool candor gone. “But you weren’t fetching his coffee or scheduling dry cleaning pickups like the rest of us had to when we first got here. No. He gave you stories that newbies could only dream about covering. So, sweetheart, I’m _glad_ to expose you.” He delighted in her dread. “Do dirt, get dirty.”

* * *

Iris only sent Barry Allen “911” texts when there was either _real_ danger, or when she was out of brownie mix (and the latter text was usually accompanied with a smiley face so that he knew which was which). But that morning, Iris’ messages included every explicative she could conjure, and she sent them while pushing through an unruly throng of reporters on her way out of CCPN. There were reps from every outlet, laden with mics, cameras, and recording devices as they prepared to pry a statement from her.

By the time she made it to Star Labs, her face was hot with anger.

“Iris – oh my goodness. I’m so sorry.” Caitlin met her at the entrance, scanned the surroundings warily to ensure that she hadn’t been followed, and quickly ushered her inside. “Barry took the back way in – ”

A gust of wind, tinged with sparks, brushed them past them. Before Iris could say anything, Barry’s arms were around her, the soft cotton of his jacket perfectly placed to catch what few small, hot tears fell.

“Are you okay?”

Barry’s warm tenor always soaked through her, replacing any unwanted emotion with the feel of him. Of his love. Even with all of the accusatory headlines calling her out, with confused texts from Linda Park asking _Iris, what’s going on?!_ , and even with Leo’s vindictive words still irritating her, she allowed herself melt into him. To let him stroke her hair, drag soft fingers against her lower back, and kiss the top of her head gently.

“I’ll be okay,” she mumbled into his shirt. “You?”

“I woke up to camera crews camped outside of Joe’s house today,” he laughed softly. “But nothing leaving out the backdoor couldn’t fix.”

When they emerged into Star Labs’ main laboratory, Cisco greeted them with a sucker between his lips and a silly grin.

“So, for the record: yall looked cute.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Cute, and a cheater, according to the headlines.”

Caitlin brought her hot tea and waved her statement off.

“People love to talk about what they don’t understand. This’ll all just … blow over eventually, right?”

Cisco smirked. “Oh Caitlin, my sweet summer child.” She missed the reference, but gave him a reproachful look anyway. “It might, but will that be before or after they catch Barry slipping?”

“Yeah, I’m worried about that too.” Iris sighed. “Bear, if reporters are already at my Dad’s trying to talk to you, then it’s only a matter of time until they start to pry into your personal life. They won’t stop digging.”

Barry raked his hands through his hair. “Then I’ll leave. I’ll go somewhere they wouldn’t expect me to. Maybe I can stay with Cisco?”

Iris shook her head. “You don’t get it. This is the work of my colleague Leo, who I found out basically hates me this morning, which is why he did all this in the first place.”

Barry froze; Cisco furrowed his brow. “Hold up – you mean some weird co-worker basically _stalked you_ to get this info?”

“Who is he?” Barry was at her side in an instant, his eyes flashing brilliantly with yellow sparks of lightning. “What’s his name?”

“Now, now, boys. Let’s bring it down a level,” Caitlin chided them.

“While I admire your adorable desire to protect me,” Iris said softly, her fingers skimming his shaking ones, “I’ll be okay. It’s just – he’s not going to stop until he gets all the dirt he can out of this.”

Barry clenched his jaw, then let out a deep sigh. With that breath, the lightning faded from his eyes. “As long as you’re sure. Because The Flash can pay him a visit.”

Iris smiled gently as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sure.”

Caitlin smiled, feigning interest in some shiny device inside another room. Cisco, however,  _tsk’d_ them.

“Hey, this is what got you in trouble in the first place. We’re supposed to be coming up with _solutions_ here, people.”

They smiled in spite of his playful jab and kissed softly, eliciting an _Oh my God_ from Cisco’s retreating figure.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Barry smiled against her lips.

Before Iris could respond, her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket.

“Oh, crap.”

_Joe West. 555-678-9101._

“It’s my Dad.”

Barry’s eyes widened. “Iris, I know this is bad but remember – we agreed. Joe doesn’t find out about _any_ of this. My identity as The Flash, working with Cisco and Cait. None of it.”

“I know, Bear. But I have to tell him something!”

The two stared at the phone until it went to voicemail; Iris was certain she’d be getting an earful from Joe later, but none of that solved their current predicament.

“So … we need to convince everyone that Iris and The Flash aren’t dating, right?” Barry asked, lost in thought.

“Yeah. But we risk all _kinds_ of negative spins being placed on the story if we make a statement and don’t say the right thing, or if we say the right thing and they still twist our words anyway, and – ”

“Break up with me.”

Iris took a step back from him then, perplexed. “What?”

“Break up with me. With The Flash.”

* * *

It was odd – tangling hands openly with The Flash in public, bright daylight lighting every corner of the street, news crews filming their every move. And it was even more strange how real the sadness in Barry’s eyes felt, as Iris prepared to deliver a rehearsed speech about how he just wasn’t the right man for her. That he loved Central City more than he could _ever_ love anyone else.

“Iris, please.” The Flash vibrated his vocal chords in an effort to add to the disguise, but she still caught hints of Barry underneath it all. “Don’t do this.”

Camera crews gathered on the corner of 4th and Main were only there because The Flash had recently apprehended another metahuman in broad daylight. And these days, every media outlet had a ping on his whereabouts; they sent droves of reporters to cover everything from his metahuman apprehensions to his connections with the Green Arrow.

Now, all of them had been alerted to his presence downtown, but had no idea that his now-public girlfriend, Iris West, would be there with him.

“I’m sorry,” Iris said loudly, hoping the cameras would pick everything up. “I meant to tell you that night, on the roof, but I was afraid. I know we have horrible timing, but now that everyone knows about us, I can’t let them believe a lie.”

“But it _wasn’t_ a lie. Tell me what I can do to prove it, to make you see how much I love you.”

Barry played the forlorn lover almost _too_ well.

“You never loved me. You love this _city_. And that’s what it deserves – a hero who’ll protect it ‘til their last breath. But _I_  deserve the same.”

When she turned from him, she let the cameras catch the sadness lining her eyes. “Goodbye, Flash.”

It felt so real, so final. But before the media could swarm them, The Flash disappeared in a blur, and Iris stepped into a private police escort headed for CCPD’s downtown branch.

* * *

“There better be a good reason why you ignored seventeen of my phone calls for the past week.”

Iris couldn’t help but detect the hurt in Joe’s voice, who sat across from her practically shaking with anger; Barry’s lab provided the perfect, empty space for them to have this discussion.

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

“For what? Keeping me out the loop? For making me think something terrible had happened to you by avoiding my calls?”

“Yes, I’m sorry for everything! For not telling you about this sooner. For … for hurting you.”

He looked at her then, _really_ looked at her. “I thought you and Barry were happy. I thought – ” A deep sigh fled him. “I thought he made you happy. Did he do something to hurt you?”

“No,” Iris began.

“Did this, this Flash asshole take advantage of you?”

“Daddy, _no_.”

“Then what, baby? What could possibly have happened to make you and Barry fall out? And why didn’t you _call me_?”

“What happened was … private, Dad. Barry and I are working through this on our own. And as much as we love you, you can’t save us from everything.”

Joe West often tried to remember that the little ones he’d raised were no longer children; they weren’t the fluffy-haired babies that ran, giggling and screaming, to the front door when he got home with shouts of  _We missed you!_ anymore. 

He sighed, then pulled his daughter tightly into his arms. “You’re okay, right?”

Iris nodded. “Things are messy right now, but I’m working on fixing them. We _both_ are.”

Joe eyed her quizzically. “You mean … you and Barry?”

As if on cue, Barry strolled into his lab then with his hands in his pockets. He looked up at Joe, a small smile playing on the edge of his lips, then settled on Iris.

“Yeah. Both of us.”

Joe’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline. “So you’re … okay with all of this, Bear?”

He took his place next to Iris, laced her fingers into his own, and met her eyes softly.

“Joe, I love her. And I know Iris loves me. When you have what we do, all the rest of it … ” He shrugged sheepishly, his thumb tracing soft circles against her skin. “Doesn’t even matter.”


	5. "Westallen prompt: westallen + dodgy motel room door, thanks"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Iris go on a road trip, culminating in a dodgy motel room confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to compile some of my Tumblr drabbles here for easier archiving purposes; as always, kudos and comments (whether critical or happy) are SO appreciated. **This chapter is smut-free.** Enjoy!

Sunlight peeked through a set of ragged blinds in their motel room, and the lines it drew on Iris West’s sprawled form was enough to stop Barry in his tracks. **  
**

“What?”

When their car broke down half a mile away, in the middle of a summer storm (and in the middle of nowhere), they used what few bars they had to track down the nearest lodging.

“It’s only half a mile,” Barry said, squinting at his phone’s GPS. “Hop on?”

His gentle smile and outstretched arms suggested that he was planning on super-speeding them both down the road. But Iris had stepped out of the car, too-warm skin readily relishing the rain-specked wind, and felt for the first time in … well, months.

And she hadn’t felt much of anything since Eddie put a gun to his chest.

“Actually Bar … let’s walk.”

Barry furrowed his brow. “Walk?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I mean, it’s only half a mile.” She threw his phrase back with a dazzling smile.

Barry couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her smile like that. Or the last time he’d made her smile like that.

* * *

Iris was propped up on one elbow, damp hair curling about her shoulders, when she called his name again.

“Bar, what is it?”

Barry shook himself out of a daze. “Uh, nothing. Just … that was crazy.”

Their quiet laughter melted into the tiny motel room, him clutching a towel around his damp neck and her smile disappearing behind a thick wall of hair.

“What, you mean to tell me you _don’t_ like walking through thunderstorms?”

“Oh yeah. It’s up there on my list of favorite things, right next to stopping giant tsunamis and running into black holes–”

He tried to catch himself before the words came out, but it was far too late. Iris’ laughter died down and Barry’s face crumpled; he cursed himself silently.

“Iris, I–”

“Please don’t, Bar.”

When she rose, it was to remove the wet jeans that were still plastered to her legs. Barry felt himself go hot all over, colored by a mixture of want and shame. His shame for having wanted her all this time, and having wanted Eddie out of the picture.

“Do you know why I walked through that rainstorm?”

Barry let go of a breath, surprised by her non-addressal of his slip-up. “I’m honestly still trying to figure out what made you want to go on a road trip in the first place.”

She smiled. “Because I wanted to see what it felt like. To choose the hard path.” When he cocked his head confusedly at her, she continued. “I spent the first month after Eddie died asking why he did it. Feeling like he chose to leave me. And I just didn’t … get it, y’know? I wanted it to make sense. To have some kind of logic or reason behind it.”

She edged back onto the bed; her boy shorts traced lacy patterns across her thighs.

“But I got it. Out there in the rain, with the world falling in watery pieces around me. He chose to save all of us. And I understood how hard that must’ve been. When he could’ve stayed out of it. Stayed with us.”

For a time, there was only the sun fading behind the blinds and the silence that followed her words – nothing more. She hadn’t spoken to anyone this much since he died, and it was freeing to let go of the grief that decorated her soul.

The mattress sunk slightly to her left; then, Barry was next to her, warm hands on top of hers, eyes wet and fierce on her profile.

“Iris, you have no idea how much I wish I could trade places with him.”

She turned quickly, her eyes searching his face in alarm.

“Bar –”

“It should’ve been me.”

In seconds, her hands went to skim his cheeks; she was vigorously shaking her head back and forth, vision blurred by her own tears. And the feel of his warmth against her stirred a part of her she thought long gone. A part that she’d always tried to quell whenever Barry was around.

And then they were both crying, foreheads touching, hands intertwining slowly – wanting desperately to grip onto something solid in the midst of their collective grief.

“That’s not what I want.”

Iris whispered this against his lips inadvertently, but found herself pulling him closer. Barry, searched her skin with warm eyes and anxious hands, trembling in the wake of what they’d both kept buried for so long.

“If there’s one thing that I can’t lose, it’s you Barry Allen. Not then. Not now.”

A light rain started up again, and Barry swiped his nose softly against hers to the rhythm of the drops against their window.

“You can’t mean that. Not when you’re so –”

She nudged his head upward with a quick swipe of her nose, eyes alight.

“So … what? Broken? Damaged?”

“Iris, you put on such a strong front.” Every word was exaggerated, conveying the preposterous nature of her facade. “Like you don’t want us to see you crumble. Like you don’t trust us – _me_ – to put you back together again.”

“Bar. I’m not porcelain. I’m human. And so are you. I own my struggles. I own that loss. And I – I own what I love. Who I love.”

Tentatively, as though she were wading through air charged with unspoken thoughts and feelings, her mouth brushed softly against his. And for a quivering beat, they savored the feel of being so close to one another. Of sharing the same grief, and the same want. Of standing on the precipice of a choice that their whole lives had been leading up to.

“Losing you? That’s what would break me, Barry Allen.”

The distance separating them was small, but it was still too much. Like magnets resisting a pull, only needing to turn slightly so that the opposing sides met. He brushed her lips back, bringing forth a tiny moan from her – sudden and soft with it’s desire.

And then he was on her with lips and tongue, words swallowed whole alongside the taste of rain. He lost himself in the maze of her hair and the rough wet cotton of her drenched sweatshirt. And Iris wasn’t sure when it happened, but she felt a rush of air – then hard wood at her bare backside. He’d removed her shirt, hitched her legs around him, and was curling their intertwined hands above their heads.

And for the first time in months, she felt full. She felt love.

She _felt_. 


	6. "Anyone gonna write the future fic where iris marries eddie and they move out of central city and then x number of years later she meets barry again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to compile some of my Tumblr drabbles here for easier archiving purposes; as always, kudos and comments (whether critical or happy) are SO appreciated. This chapter is smut-free. Enjoy!

The last time she’d seen him, it was through the gauzy haze of her veil. She remembered the racing staccato of her heart, how it made every step she took a bit shakier than the last. **  
**

Eddie beamed at the end of the aisle, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. And to his right, Barry Allen appraised her with a hard smile and wet eyes. His heart raced, too, but with dread. It caught in his throat, thudding unevenly as the steps she took pushed her further from him.

If you were to ask her guests, Iris’ tears were just proof of the earth-shattering happiness she felt. And Barry’s were those of a dutiful best man, who just happened to be very close with the bride.

“I do,” she whispered, ring weighing heavily on her slender finger. Eddie mirrored her answer.

But when she risked a glance at Barry, at that practiced facade he held steady –

How odd that it matched hers perfectly.

* * *

 

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

Iris had been nursing a mug of chamomile tea, foot propped up on one of the many moving boxes that lined their apartment.

“Of course not.” A gruff mover motioned at her to move her foot, and then proceeded to lug it outside. She rose. “Bigger place, closer to your new job –”

“ _And_ yours,” Eddie said. He wrapped his arms gently around her. “The Coast City Star is probably getting your office all setup now.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a junior reporting gig. I’ll be lucky if they give me a desk in the coat closet.”

“Well, we could’ve been there by now if Barry were helping us move,” he joked. “To be honest, I thought he’d stop by before we left.”

Iris shrugged, moved around him to nudge a box into place alongside the others. Anything to avoid his gaze, and the heaviness that crept into her throat at the mention of Barry’s name.

“We’ve gotta get used to doing things on our own now; we won’t have Barry in Coast City.”

Eddie smirked. “Guess you’re right.” He mumbled something about sweeping the place one last time, and Iris painfully swallowed what was left of her want.

* * *

 

Central City is a notoriously cold place during winter; tonight was no exception. Snow fell in swirling flakes, dusting her trenchcoat and gloved hands in eddies.

Linda and Wally were celebrating their two year anniversary at Coit Bistro, and Linda had finally talked her best friend into leaving her tiny solo uptown apartment for a night out.

“Iris, you seriously need to get out more,” she’d said, swirling cream into her coffee that morning. Central City Picture News was buzzing with news of the latest metahuman, and more feats of the Flash. Iris was just trying to keep her head on straight amid the busy workday. “Somehow I feel like I see you _less_ now, which is ridiculous considering how much we FaceTimed while you were in Coast City.”

Iris smiled. “I _just_ got back. Cut me some slack.”

“Pfft. You’ve officially hit eight months – you can’t claim that card anymore.”

She furrowed her brow. Had it really been that long?

“Come on. It would mean a ton if you came tonight. I mean, you’re the one who introduced us! And you missed our first one.”

Linda put on the saddest expression she could muster, but the mirth in her eyes suggested that Iris didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

“It’ll be fun. Small, casual, and did I mention fun?”

The shrill ringing of her office phone interrupted their conversation, but Linda mouthed _You’re-coming-or-so-help-me-god to her_ before answering cheerfully: “Linda Park, Senior Writer – how can I help you?”

Now, Iris was navigating loads of Christmas foot traffic in five inch booties ( _god_ , why’d she decide to break these out again?) and a dress that hugged every sinuous angle, all while hauling a brightly wrapped anniversary gift a lot heavier now that she was off the train.

“Look who it is!” Linda stood when she arrived, waving her over to their – _crowded!?_ – table. “Have a seat.” Linda gestured to an empty chair across the table; Iris’ eyes swept the ornate fabric and table settings before settling on the figure that sat beside them.

And her heart leapt into another messy staccato.

He came unhinged at the sight of her, stunned by her radiance. Like he was drowning within the vastness that was her presence and what it did to him. And everything, _everything_ that they’d buried came hurdling toward them now.

How was it possible that she looked more beautiful in a black cocktail dress than a wedding gown?

“Well, well.” Linda smiled gleefully, clearly excited about her sneaky plan. “Don’t you look good.”

Iris shot her daggers as she sat down, then swept a lock of hair behind her ear in an effort to regain her composure. The table menu offered her an anchor, a way to keep her gaze averted and breathing steady.

“Hi Bar,” she whispered, eyes trained on the dinner options.

“H-hey.”

She couldn’t help the smile that crawled from her.

When she came back, she practically strong-armed Linda and Joe into keeping her return (and divorce) quiet. Mostly because she wanted things to be done on her terms, and that included which parts of her heart she opened up again.

Which meant staying as far from Barry Allen as humanly possible. And simultaneously _aching_ to see him.

He cleared his throat. “How long are you in town for?”

“Well … forever, I guess.”

* * *

 

At the end of the evening, Linda thanked Iris profusely for their sugary anniversary gift (fancy, and surprisingly heavy, chocolates from the shop where they’d had their first date). And when the two lovebirds departed, people began to disperse intoxicatedly (due to Wally’s decision to buy _three_ rounds of whiskey sours for the table). But when Iris slipped on her coat, Barry caught her eye from the doorway, firm hand planted on the frame, eyes fierce with unasked questions and the sting of year’s radio silence.

“Walk with me?” He asked brazenly.

A part of her knew this was a bad idea, but she couldn’t help but muster a breathy “Okay.” (Thank you _very much_ whiskey sours).

The snow fell around them in sheets, and the wet crunch of their shoes against the sleet marked the silence for a while. Barry stole glances at her every now and again beneath his long lashes, hands buried into the pockets of his dark jeans. Hers into fur-lined coat pockets. The space became heavy with the weight of their thoughts

“I sent you a couple of emails after you left. And when you didn’t reply, I, ah–” he rubbed his neck self-consciously, “I sent a letter or two. They were corny cards. One congratulating you on a story you did for the Coast City Coalition for Shelter, and another joke-y one about the–that, dog thing?”

Iris giggled. “The surfer dog, whose owner trained him to ride a paddle board. Yeah. Not my finest moment, or my best piece.”

“Are you kidding?! Best. Story. Ever.”

She shot him a playful grimace, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him. How easy this was, how right it always felt like this, underneath the crunching of snow or in the rain, in the sunlight, in the chill that crept into Fall morning. All the things she’d missed, all the _time_ she’d missed.

“How are you? And how’s Eddie?”

Color touched her dark cheeks. “I’m good, and so is he. As far as I know, anyway. Enjoying the less frigid Coast City weather, I’m sure.”

Barry traced her unspoken meaning with a whispered _I’m sorry_ , low enough that she heard, but also low enough not to invade the silence with too much pity. She didn’t want pity, anyway.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to do the thing, too.”

“Huh?”

She smirked. “When everyone finds out what happened with us, they get this look on their face.” She pantomimed it – eyes wide, lips twisted into a half surprised smile and half horrified grimace. “The thing,” she finished matter-of-factly.

It looked _ridiculous_. And they laughed ridiculously at it together.

“Not sure I could actually make my face do _that_.”

She crumped her nose at him. “You know what I mean. Because it’s silly to pity someone who did the right thing, and feels better off for it.”

“Iris,” He stopped walking. “Pity isn’t … it isn’t what I’m feeling. It isn’t what I’ve ever felt when it … when it comes to you.”

Something in the air between them shifted – turned over, laid itself bare amid the landscape of their feelings. And for a moment, there was only the weight of unspoken words, mingling with the steam their breath produced in winter’s chill.

“Barry – ”

He held up his hands, eyes alight. “Iris, if I let you get on that subway and walk away, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Because I should’ve said this again and again. I should’ve put it in my letters. I should’ve said it a hundred times before you left, so that you _knew_.”

The cold was creeping into her bones now, but she’d never felt so warm. So light. Like an anchor had been cast at a dock, like she’d been called home.

“I love you.”

She twisted her fingers, spoke through the tendrils of hair that spilled from her beanie to obscure the dark red of her lipstick.

“But I chose him. I made the wrong choice the first time, and I – I chose him instead of you.”

“I don’t care.”

“But, I left – ”

He crossed the distance separating them, and the air crackled around her as it became warped tangled in his speed.

“I don’t care, Iris.”

“But Bar – ” She smiled, gripping onto him tightly, eyes blurred with tears.

“Don’t. Care.”

And they didn’t. They didn’t care about who saw him dipped toward her lips, brushing them slightly, parting her mouth with his tongue, drawing forth a heady gasp from her. They didn’t care who saw him speed her home, who saw them stumble into her apartment between kisses and breathy moans, or who saw them the morning after, and the day after that … and the day after that.

Not when his love was enough to eclipse the rest of the world.


	7. Write something about barry and iris spending their day at home because it is snowing and joe asked them and the team to come to his house for dinner and game night but barry and iris wanted to be alone and cuddle on their warm comfy couch lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to compile some of my Tumblr drabbles here for easier archiving purposes; as always, kudos and comments (whether critical or happy) are SO appreciated. **This chapter is smut-free.** Enjoy!

Watching snow cascade from their loft was a special treat Barry’d been waiting for; the light dusting that’d swept through on the night he surprised Iris with the keys to their place … well, it hadn’t stuck. By the next morning, the sidewalks were slightly damp, drying in small patches here and there, but not a single flake survived the above-freezing temperatures, opting instead to melt (along with his excitement). **  
**

But now? Fluff blanketed the world in white as thick, gauzy sheets fell; the chill outside was a welcome contrast to the warmth of their apartment, as Barry watched it from the window with steaming mug of tea.

“It’s so pretty outside.”

Iris stepped out from the bedroom draped in a fluffy robe, steam wafting from her own mug to curl around stray wisps of hair; they cascaded free from her messy top bun, and when she smiled brightly at him, her soft eyes never left his.

“It really is,” Barry whispered, heart tripping over its cadence. They _both_ knew he wasn’t talking about the weather.

“And guess what?” Iris asked. They met in the middle of the loft, placing their mugs on Star Wars-themed coasters, before plopping onto the couch; instead, Iris flashed her phone screen, opting instead to show him.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Barry ran hands over his face in mock frustration.

“Snow day, bitch!” Iris kissed him teasingly.

“Bitch?” He worried her bottom lip between his teeth. “It’s like _that_ , West?”

“Mm,” she rubbed her nose against his. “Babe, need I remind you just _how many_ city holidays you get that I don’t?”

Barry let go of a breathy laugh. “No,” he smiled against her lips, knowing she’d continue anyway.

“Five.” Her nose nudged his again, clearing the way for another kiss. “Five times I had to watch you curl up under the covers while I was halfway out the door, on my way to CCPN, sleep deprived and caffeine-riddled.”

“ _Fiiine_ ,” he drawled. “But to be fair, The Flash never gets a day off.”

Iris snorted over the finishing _wink_ on that statement, then watched Barry urgently check his phone for a miraculous _don’t-come-into-work_ notification (that, of course, wasn’t there).

“I mean, it looks pretty bad to me.” Barry glanced out the window, thumbs stroking her thighs absentmindedly, “And it’s so _warm_ in here, with a certain somebody looking like … this.”

He tried not to focus on the way she worried her bottom lip with a devious grin; it had a cruel habit of making him imagine the feeling of it against his neck, which stirred all _sorts_ of feelings.

“Crime doesn’t stop just because it’s snowing, honey.” Her sweet tone was laced with gentle mockery. “And The Flash might not get a vacation, but Iris West, future Pulitzer winning reporter, totally does.”

Instead of teasing back, Barry opted for losing himself in the feeling of her thighs, slowly wrapping about his waist; of her weight as she shifted to straddle him, their kisses growing insistently feverish.

“You think I should text him?” Barry asked after several minutes of breathy kissing. “Joe, I mean?”

“No, no — call instead,” Iris returned, voice laden with need. “He’s probably on his way in, like you should be,” she teased. But beneath it was a desire to put the snow day to _good use_. To convince Joe to let Barry stay home, just this once.

Barry didn’t need super speed; the want in her expression made him move fast enough to catch Joe on the first ring.

“Hey, Joe — you’re, uh, not on your way to work, are you?”

“Uhhh, have you looked outside?” he returned snarkily. “I opened the front door this morning and snow _spilled inside the damn doorway_ , up to my knees! I only just finished sweeping.”

Barry stifled a laugh. “Wow, well _that’s_ worse than I thought. I mean, and shoveling the entire driveway? Pfft. That’s gonna take forever, you know? Probably best if we all just stay home, right?”

“Maybe,” Joe mused. “Or maybe I should’ve called The Flash over for some much needed cleaning help.”

Iris was impatient, running her hands underneath his shirt; the taut muscles of his abdomen contracted at her touch, sparks flying in the wake of her fingers.

“Oh, yeah?” Barry tried to sound normal, but his pitch was a tad too high. “Well you just let me know — you let me know if you need me, _later_ ,” he emphasized. Iris had moved to kissing the digits that weren’t grasping his phone, eyes warm with love.

“Well I was going to do just that, actually, but I figured it’d sweeten the deal if I cleaned up before you guys get here.”

Barry froze. “Uh — sorry? Before we … get … there?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Joe said, disbelieving. “Bear, it’s a snow day.”

“Right.”

“Snow. Day.” Joe reiterated the point.

“Y—yes? It’s — snowing? Outside. Right now.” Deafening silence from Joe. “Which means … something. That you think I should … know?”

Joe paused for a _long_ while, then followed up with an incredulous giggle: “You really forgot, didn’t you.”

By this point, Barry’s confused stammering made Iris stop her ministrations. She untangled herself from him, mouthing _What?_ , eyes curious.

“Forgot what, Joe?” Barry covered the phone, mouthing _I don’t know; he thinks I forgot something_ back to Iris.

But he’d stumbled over the words far too quickly for her. _What???_ Iris mouthed, forcing Barry to wave exasperatedly.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“What?” Joe said, even _more_ confused than the two of them were.

“I — nothing, sorry Joe. Just, multitasking. Badly.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to give me more to go on here. What are you talking about?”

“Bear — _snow day_. The West Family tradition. Board games, bad action movies, pizza, snacks … remember?”

Barry pitched forward, head in his hand. “Oh! Right — West Family snow day. Yeah, sorry Joe. It’s just, we haven’t — we haven’t done that since Iris and I were _kids_.”

“Now look,” Joe said, playfulness ebbing, “I know Iris comes first and all, and your fancy downtown loft is big enough for the two of you to enjoy all by your lonesome — and that’s fine … _Any. Other. Day_. But _not_ on West Family Snow Day.”

“Joe —”

“Uh uh — I don’t wanna hear it, Bear. Just bring Iris — actually, bring the whole team if you want; stuff should be ready in an hour or so. Oh! And I ordered breakfast pizza from _Maggio’s_ , the kind with the bacon and bell peppers that Iris loves. And don’t worry, I ordered like eight boxes — can you believe they had a snow day deal? Must be desperate for the business,” Joe chuckled, lost in is planning.

 _What’s he saying?_ Iris shout-whispered, suddenly realizing that — perhaps — making _good use_ of the snow day suddenly wasn’t an option on the table.

“Oh, and don’t forget the games,” Joe continued. “You still have my copy of Battleship somewhere in that loft.”

Barry shot Iris an incredulous look (to which he noticed that, slowly, something dawned on her;  he vaguely noted her giggly “Oh my god,” before continuing). “Wait, hold on Joe —”

But three beeps that followed either signaled a dropped call or Joe’s finger becoming _good_ friends with the “End” button.

“He didn’t even say ‘bye’,” Barry whined. “Iris, you won’t believe what he wants us to —”

“West Family Snow Day,” she finished with a smirk. “I _knew it_.”

“ _You_ remembered?! How’d you remember and I forgot?” Barry raked through his hair, truly disturbed that he’d somehow removed the all-important family ritual from his mind. “I mean, we haven’t had one of those in years.”

“Aw, honey,” Iris laughed, wrapping her warm arms around him. “I know, but that’s probably why he wants it. I mean — this is his first snow without both of us there.”

“You say that like he’s some poor puppy we left behind.”

Iris smirked. “Well, he might as well be right now. And we’ll _never_ hear the end of it if we don’t go.”

“And he just said ‘bring the Team, if you want’, like any of them are going to be able to get across town in this snow?” Barry groaned. “The roads aren’t plowed yet, which probably means picking up and speeding everyone over before the pizzas get cold.”

They sunk into the couch, as if savoring every inch of the cushions before having to leave its warmth behind forever.

“Well you did say — The Flash never gets a day off.” Iris beamed while Barry rolled his eyes, shrieking as he pulled her into a nuzzling embrace that left them shake-laughing in the morning stillness.

“But — we _do_ have an hour,” Barry whispered against her neck.

“And you _are_ the fastest man alive,” she winked.

“With a penchant for knowing how to take my time when it matters,” Barry chided her, nuzzing his forehead against hers. She tangled her fingers into his hair, loving the soft sigh it elicited.

“Then take as much time with me as you can, Bear.”


End file.
